


The Sword Of Damocles

by dirkygoodness



Series: Golden Sunshine [2]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Blow Jobs, Bottom Anakin Skywalker, Choking, Crying but not the sexy kind, Dom Obi-Wan, Dom/sub, Dom/sub Undertones, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Feelings, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Masturbation, Praise Kink, Rimming, Scars, Self-Worth Issues, Sub Anakin, Top Obi-Wan Kenobi, a match made in heaven, anakin wants to get laid but also he's a very emotional man, obi-wan is just like constantly embarrassed until he starts waxing poetically about anakin, sad I know, the force wants them to fuck
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-03
Updated: 2020-02-03
Packaged: 2021-02-28 07:20:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,923
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22539994
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dirkygoodness/pseuds/dirkygoodness
Summary: They've been back for a week and still they haven't had the conversation. It's like a sword is hanging over Anakin's head, constantly seconds from falling. It sends a sense of urgency through him and he can't stop the jitters that follow it even though he’s supposed to be resting.He'd been out of it for two days as they made it back to Coruscant and another two bedridden and surrounded by healers without end. But they've been back for a while now, and have got maybe a week, two before they ship out again.And they haven't talked about it.
Relationships: Obi-Wan Kenobi/Anakin Skywalker
Series: Golden Sunshine [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1621813
Comments: 33
Kudos: 756





	The Sword Of Damocles

**Author's Note:**

> anakin panics, obi-wan panics, and they also love eachother. thats it thats star wars
> 
> sequel to swear on it

They haven't talked about it. 

They've been back for a week and still they haven't had the conversation. It's like a sword is hanging over Anakin's head, constantly seconds from falling. It sends a sense of urgency through him and he can't stop the jitters that follow it even though he’s supposed to be resting. They were still needed out in the field, but in their last mission he'd been injured badly enough to bring them back to the temple to recover. 

He'd been caught in the explosion of a land speeder that'd been struck by too much blaster fire. His metal arm had taken the brunt of the explosion, but his shoulder, upper back, and the side of his stomach had been burned along with it. Nothing  _ too  _ severe, not as bad as he'd had it in the past. 

Still, he'd been out of it for two days as they made it back to Coruscant and another two bedridden and surrounded by healers without end. But they've been back for a while now, and have got maybe a week, two before they ship out again. 

And they haven't talked about it. 

Obi-Wan has barely said a word to him after the first three days back at the temple - when they were still worried Anakin might have gotten worse. It had been endearing, and really the only reason Anakin hadn’t stormed out of the healers rooms. While his words were all clipped with barely concealed concern, his humor and company had kept Anakin from going crazy. 

They didn’t say much to each other then, though, with limited time to be together so Anakin could ‘focus on healing’ or whatever other nonsense the healers had spouted at them. But he's recovering fine, already he’s been let out of the medbay, and  _ yet  _ Obi-Wan hasn't said more than a word to him in passing. 

It sits wrong, in the pit of Anakin's stomach, like he's swallowed a lead weight or a blaster. It’s a thick and uncomfortable feeling that he’s become far too familiar with over the last few years. Obi-Wan hadn’t spoken to him since he’d been let out. Which would be fine - if this was just another routine day, just one in a million experiences. 

Anakin’s used to waiting for things he’s never going to get. But. After their conversation, after he'd had another nightmare. After Anakin had confessed his feelings. After Obi-Wan had said he loved him back. After he'd sworn they'd be talking about this soon. 

So it's been a week and Anakin's starting to question the definition of soon. To be fair, his patience hasn't exactly ever been his strong suit. But still - a  _ week.  _ That's an awfully long time to go without saying anything to each other. And Anakin's not sure what to make of it. He thinks he should be angry about it, that he should get mad and confront Obi-Wan and demand an explanation. 

Part of him  _ is  _ mad. Understandably so. But. He mostly just aches with loss. Because if Obi-Wan has been avoiding him - which by this point is really the only logical conclusion he can come to - then that means he's had second thoughts. That means he doesn't want to see Anakin. It means he doesn't actually love -

He stops himself, pausing in the middle of the hallway to squeeze his eyes shut and take a sharp breath. Forces the thought out of his mind, unable to let himself even  _ consider _ that particular line of thinking. There had to be a reason Obi-Wan hadn’t talked to him yet. 

Maybe the council was keeping him busy, or he was trying to figure out what to say to Anakin. Maybe he just forgot. There could be a hundred different reasons why they’d not talked about it yet. But Obi-Wan had never really been very forgetful, and Anakin was pretty sure he’d know if Obi-Wan was doing things for the council. Let alone the fact that Obi-Wan never really had to stop and think about what he wanted to say, always able to come up with the right thing in a matter of seconds. 

Every excuse he came up with just fell apart seconds later, and in the end Anakin was left standing in the middle of the hall back where he’d started, unable to think about anything but the glaring fact that Obi-Wan was intentionally avoiding him. He clenches his hands, opening his eyes to stare emphatically out the window. 

He was thankful it was late, the skyline barely even lit up from ‘speeders as they passed. Most people were asleep now, which left Anakin feeling a little less conscious about the fact that he was standing in the middle of the walkway like a brooding fool for any passerby to see. That has him pursing his lips and sucking in a sharp breath. 

Anakin pulls his gaze away and lets his feet take him away on autopilot. At the very least he needs to keep walking so no one questions what he’s doing, and then he’d have to flounder for an excuse that didn’t paint him in a bad light. At the most he needed to go to his room. Internally he knows he should go to bed, sleep, get a good night's sleep so his wounds will heal that much faster. 

But the sword is still hanging and he can’t help but stare directly at it. He doubts he’s going to be able to get any kind of rest soon, not until he confronts this - be it through actually confronting Obi-Wan or coming to terms with the fact that Obi-Wan lied to him and he’s going to have to think about what could have been for the rest of his life because Obi-Wan is his partner. 

He’s not going to get away from any of this, he’ll have to stand there beside him, fight beside him, and constantly be reminded about what he almost had. Anakin suspects it’d drive him mad. So avoiding it really isn’t the most ideal option. All in all, he needs to talk to Obi-Wan. It’s the smartest thing to do. At least that way he’ll  _ know.  _

His stomach churns, goes hot with anticipation and shame just from that line of thinking flitting through his brain. Anakin doesn’t know how to start, what he’d even  _ say  _ to Obi-Wan. Ask him why he lied? Ask why he’s been avoiding him? Even if he figured out what to say, he can’t even begin to fathom what  _ Obi-Wan  _ would say. 

Would he be respectful and apologize, but say it was a mistake? Would he be hostile and command Anakin to never speak of it again? Would he play dumb and act like he had no idea what had happened? Would he be nonchalant about it? ‘It’s been fun, thanks for playing’? He’s known Obi-Wan for years - for goodness sake, he’s  _ slept  _ with Obi-Wan for years. 

And yet he can’t even start to try and figure out what he’d say to him about this. Perhaps it’s because he never expected Obi-Wan to ever say something like what he had. Perhaps it’s because he doesn’t know him as well as he thinks he does. Maybe it’s just that he’s not good enough to figure it out. 

Anakin nearly runs into the door before he snaps out of his thoughts, his hand touching against it briefly as he pulls back from it. He blinks rapidly as he tries to figure out where’s he’s managed to walk. The instantly recognizable metal door before him sends a chill running up his spine as he realizes that he’s standing in front of Obi-Wan’s door. 

He’d managed to mindlessly walk himself here, too focused on the  _ what ifs  _ to realize where he was going. And since he’d intended to get himself to his own door, which was only a few down from Obi-Wan’s, it wasn’t really  _ that  _ surprising. Still, though. Anakin clenches his jaw and he frowns, staring at the door hard. It seems like his body had come to a decision about whether or not to talk to Obi-Wan before he had had the chance to. 

And it is tempting. To knock on Obi-Wan’s door and pry an explanation out of him. But Anakin still has endlessly growing dread creeping up his spine, so he hisses out a breath and takes a step backwards instead.

“No,” He says it quietly and entirely for his own benefit, but enough to ensure his decision. Somehow, he supposes, saying it out loud will cement it into fact. He can’t let himself knock on Obi-Wan’s do, can’t do this. 

Doesn’t want to see the look on Obi-Wan’s face when he has to tell Anakin that it’s over. That they had their fun but it’s time to grow up and get ahold of themselves. When Obi-Wan oh-so convincingly tells Anakin that it’s better this way, that  _ real  _ Jedi don’t do this.

_ What would the council think, Anakin? Imagine the trouble you’d get into. We can’t have them throw you out. _ Anakin takes another step back, all the while shaking his head. It’s enough just thinking about what would happen if he opened the door, he doesn’t need to put himself through the trouble of it. 

Obi-Wan’s intentions had been made pretty clear when he started avoiding him. Anakin spins on his heel and tries to make a break for his own room - only three doors down, his eyes glued to it like a lifeline. He should just go to sleep and mind his own business.

It’s the telltale hiss of a door opening, the gust of air that hits his face, that freezes him in his tracks before he manages to get more than a half-step away. Anakin doesn’t even have to turn to know that Obi-Wan’s standing on the other side of the now-open door. He can see him through the corner of his eye like a looming threat. Anakin swallows hard. He was just having the worst luck. 

Obi-Wan startles, his voice soft as he speaks. “Anakin,” He says, and Anakin can’t stop himself from turning to face him slowly. Like a shard of metal drawn inevitably towards a magnet. “I thought you were asleep.” 

His face is surprisingly open, the surprise clear as day in the way his eyes have widened and his jaw is slack. It’s - new, to say the least. Anakin’s not really used to seeing him so expressive, even when they’re together, he usually doesn’t get this clear read on what Obi-Wan’s feeling. It takes him a moment to respond. 

“Couldn’t.” Anakin manages to say, and it’s the truth. He hasn’t been able to sleep fully through the night since they got back. 

He could blame it on the bruises, the burns that still litter his sides, but if he’s being honest it’s because every time he closes his eyes he sees he and Obi-Wan, Obi-Wan’s confession, and what should be a comfort in it he only manages to find heartache and panic. It, coupled with the nightmares that had plagued him the entire time they were in active battle… it’s left him with little time to sleep. Obi-Wan’s brow wrinkles, pinching on concern the second the words have left mouth. 

“More nightmares?” He questions gently, and for once in his life Anakin actually wishes it  _ was  _ the nightmares. If it was, he could tell Obi-Wan about it, he could slip easily into conversation, into a routine, he might even get some actual comfort out of it. 

But as it stands he can’t really think of a good way to tell Obi-Wan that he’s been so lonely that anytime he sleeps he dreams of Obi-Wan, that he wakes up more tired than when he laid down. That he hasn’t had a nightmare since that night on the mountain. 

Anakin shrugs. “Something like that.” He lets his eyes land a little above Obi-Wan’s shoulder, unable to look at his face. There’s a pause between them, a lapse in conversation that feels uncomfortable in a way he’s not used to and Anakin isn’t entirely sure what’s about to happen. 

He’s used to the comfortable, familiar silence they settle into. Not… whatever this is. So he startles when Obi-Wan turns to the side and ushers him into his quarters with a wave of his hand and a nod. Anakin blinks, staring at the darkness of Obi-Wan’s living room, before he finally looks skeptically at Obi-Wan. For a man who’s been avoiding him for little over a week he’s sure quick to invite him in. 

But Obi-Wan doesn’t say anything else, doesn’t offer any more, and his mask is back on so Anakin can’t find more emotion than calm emptiness. It makes his stomach fall and he matches his silence and walks in. Doesn’t really see any other option. 

He’s been in Obi-Wan’s quarters enough in his life that he can maneuver around without the lights, could probably do it blind and cut off from the Force, too. The living area is large and almost entirely empty. 

There's an elegant couch in the middle of the room on top of an equally elegant blue and brown rug, both of which sit in front of a decently sized holo-screen. To the left of the couch stands a small, silver end table, with a book laying open faced on top. To match, there’s a small, yet almost dainty bookshelf tucked into the corner of the right side of the room next to the ‘fresher door. 

From where Anakin stands he can see the kitchen, it and the living room connected in an open design that matches his own quarters. It too is almost entirely empty save for two stools and a small knife rack almost hidden near the sink. Without the lights everything is cast in a dull grey, but normally the room is almost entirely, clinically white. 

Anakin had given Obi-Wan a small, very colorful potted plant a few months back to try and spice up his room. 

Anakin doesn’t see it anywhere.

“Sorry,” Obi-Wan mutters as he passes next to Anakin, his arm just barely missing brushing against Anakin's, drawing his attention back up in time to see Obi-Wan flick the lights on. 

Anakin squints against the suddenness of it, his eyes stinging from the change. By the time he adjusts Obi-Wan has made his way to the kitchen and has the kettle on the stovetop, pulling a teacup out from one of the cabinets hanging above the counter. 

“Can I offer you some tea?” 

“You know I hate your teas,” Anakin responds dryly, his eyes wandering around the room again so he doesn’t have to watch Obi-Wan. He doesn’t get a response, and he’s not sure if he likes that or not. 

He doesn’t want to push though, because if he can at least delay the inevitable of Obi-Wan telling him how they can’t be together, can’t because it’s not the Jedi way, then that’s a few more seconds for him to compose himself. Eventually he finds himself standing in front of Obi-Wan’s bookshelf, his eyes drifting over the spines and titles but not actually processing any of it. 

Anakin's paying close attention to every little noise and sound Obi-Wan is making behind him, from the sound of the cup clinking against the counter to the sound of the stovetop lighting. Finally there's a shuffle of fabric and Obi-Wan speaks again.

"How's your wounds?" His voice is cautious in the way only he is; picking his words carefully for their best effect. 

He didn't get the title 'The Negotiator' for nothing. Anakin uses his flesh hand to pull a random book from the shelf and lets it fall open to a page absently. Pretends to read it.

"Fine." Anakin says, voice tight. The sword above him slips a little closer. "Healing good."

"Good, good," Obi-Wan hums, and Anakin can hear him tapping his fingers against the countertop. They lapse into a pregnant pause, the air between them taunt and ready to snap. 

Anakin slips his fingers between two pages and pulls them back and forth, trying not to say anything. Tries not to let himself spin around and demand an explanation. Tries not to lose his nerve and just leave. 

"Anakin," Obi-Wan finally says. "I would like to… well, I'd like to apologise. I haven't seen you for most of the time we've been back." 

It's what Anakin wants but at the same time it sparks flames in his chest and he spins, facing Obi-Wan. Obi-Wan is turned to him, his arms braced behind him against the counter as his legs cross at the ankles. His face is as unreadable as ever. Anakin levels him with a glare.

"Really? I hadn't noticed." Anakin deadpans, unable to stop himself. 

It's childish, but he doesn't care. Obi-Wan made him feel like a fool and all Anakin wants to do now is the same.  There's a shift across Obi-Wan's face, something he can't place, but he spots it nonetheless. 

"Why must you-" Obi-Wan starts, sighs, rubs his hand down his face. "Look, I don't want to fight. I should have come to talk to you sooner, I just…"

"What?" Anakin asks, closing the book with a snap that echoes in the room. He spins now to fully face Obi-Wan, letting his arms fall to his sides. His face burns. "Just didn't want to deal with the fallout of lying to me? Again." He adds, his mouth twisting against the urge to cry that's already begun. 

It leaves him with an ache in his chest and a shiver of shame. He can't even control himself long enough to get through this conversation and it's frustrating,  _ embarrassing.  _

Obi-Wan blinks at him, like he's been caught off guard, shifting to cross his arms over his chest. In anyone else Anakin would think it was a show of self consciousness, trying to cover up and hide.

In Obi-Wan he knows it's just him getting more serious. He doesn't think Obi-Wan has actually felt vulnerable in his life. He's probably not capable of it. 

"I didn't lie to you." He says finally, his voice pitched just so, just enough that Anakin can hear the growing frustration. It makes him growl.

"Okay, then what would you call it? Cause I'm pretty sure telling me something that isn't true is considered  _ lying."  _ Anakin hisses, his voice rising sharply. As soon as he does he lets out a puff of air, deflating as quickly as he'd grown angry. 

He looks down at the book in his hand, raising it to read the title.  _ 'The Code of Honor'.  _ Some old Jedi book. He lets his arm fall again, swinging with the momentum as he allows his eyes fall on the spot where the carpet meets wall next to him.

"Let's just get this over with so I can sleep again." At his words Obi-Wan's face flits between confusion and concern, and he finally pushes himself up off the counter. 

Anakin knows he shouldn't have mentioned sleep, not with how concerned Obi-Wan is about his dreams, about how much rest he manages to get. He winces even before Obi-Wan speaks. 

"How long have you not been sleeping? More than just tonight?" Obi-Wan manages to sound genuinely worried for him, like he  _ cares.  _ It makes Anakin's chest hurt and his hand tingle with the need for contact. He just squeezes his fingers hard around the book until it starts to hurt. 

"I'm fine," He grits out, his jaw clenching as he finally looks up from the spot on the floor. He doesn't want to talk about his sleeping habits - or lack thereof. He wants Obi-Wan to admit what he's done. 

To admit he'd lied to Anakin's face when he'd told him he loved him. Because Anakin can't stand the thought of not knowing the truth. Because there's no way Obi-Wan  _ wasn't _ lying. Obi-Wan rolls his eyes the second theirs meet and Anakin wants to scream. From shame or frustration he doesn't know. 

"Anakin, we just talked about this, you can't keep hiding the fact you're not sleeping. It's a detriment to your health, you're going to end up making yourself sick." Obi-Wan scolds him like he's a child. Like he doesn't sound like the world's biggest hypocrite. 

"Oh that's  _ rich, _ " Anakin spits, taking a heavy step forwards. "You've been avoiding me since that night, only spoke to me when you thought I was  _ dying,  _ and now you want to lecture me about  _ avoiding  _ things? I've not been able to sleep since we got back to the temple because I've been sick to my stomach trying to come up with excuses for why you wouldn't talk to me! 'Maybe he's just busy' I told myself, 'maybe he just needs a little time'. I kept thinking," Anakin's voice cracks weakly, and he has to bite the inside of his mouth to keep from sobbing.

"I kept thinking," He repeats after a moment, taking another step forwards, "That if I just held out one more day, you'd come talk to me. You'd  _ talk  _ to me like you swore you would. But you didn't. So I came to you and you're acting like nothing happened, like you didn't lie to me. The  _ least  _ you can do is grant me the  _ decency  _ of admitting you didn't mean what you said so I don't have to stay up every night trying to figure out what I did wrong." 

Anakin's breath trembles on the last word and it takes every ounce of self control not to just throw the book to the floor and run. He just barely manages to hold his ground, his gaze somehow still locked into Obi-Wan across the room. 

Obi-Wan is silent. The look on his face almost makes Anakin feel sorry, almost makes him feel guilty to digging into him like he had. But then he thinks about why he had done it and can't manage it. 

For a long, tense moment Anakin's not sure what Obi-Wan is going to do. It's like they're both frozen in time until something,  _ anything _ breaks them out of it.

The kettle whistling is what finally does it, the both of them jumping at the noise, having completely forgotten it'd been going. Obi-Wan quickly spins and shuts the burner off, lifting the kettle from the heat and onto the counter. 

He stands there for a moment before finally turning back around, not pouring the tea into his cup. Obi-Wan stares at him for a heartbeat before letting out a heavy sigh.

He moves, coming out of the kitchen area slowly, once again trying not to spook Anakin. He finally comes to a stop a little ways away from him, where the grey carpet of the living room stops and the tiles kitchen floor starts. 

His eyes haven't left Anakin's once, not for a fraction of a second, so Anakin hasn't had a chance to prepare himself. To brace himself against Obi-Wan's next words. All he can do is tighten the grip he has on Obi-Wan's book and hope he can keep from crying. 

"I am  _ so  _ sorry," Is what Obi-Wan finally says, and his voice is as full of emotion as his face. He looks like he's drowning. "I didn't mean to worry you so much, Anakin. I should have come to talk to you sooner, and there's no excuse for having not. And truly, I would have. I wanted to. It's only that I-" Obi-Wan cuts himself off, his hand outstretched and waving, like doing so would conjure up the words he wants to say. 

Anakin wants to yell, to demand he finish his sentence. Give him an explanation. He just manages to keep himself from doing so. 

"I was embarrassed." The words hit Anakin like a speeding sandcrawler and he's left standing there blinking dumbly as he stares at Obi-Wan. 

_ What? _

"I hadn't expected my own feelings to be so strong,  _ let alone _ to admit them the way I -  _ we  _ did.” He casts his eyes to the side and too the floor, expression complicated with shame. Anakin isn’t used to seeing it anywhere but the mirror. 

“You must understand, I've never  _ had  _ these feelings like this before. And when I was confronted with them face to face after we got back I… I simply did not know what to do with myself. And being so close to the council didn't help, thinking somehow every thought I had about you would get me cast out on the spot." Obi-Wan rubs the back of his neck, laughing weakly. 

It's the first time Anakin has seen this. Has seen Obi-Wan  _ vulnerable.  _ It's terrifying. Obi-Wan is supposed to be the smart, clear headed one. What’s going to happen when they’re  _ both  _ like this?

"You must think me a foolish old man. Running and hiding from you like a - a  _ youngling."  _ He says it like it's supposed to be funny, but his face is pinched, brow wrinkled and mouth pulled up into a wince. 

Anakin swallows hard. 

"No," He says it quicker than he expected himself too, internally still reeling from Obi-Wan's admission. 

It’s hard for Anakin to finish the sentence though, wrestling with hangups and the realization that Obi-Wan  _ cares.  _ Enough that he was scared the council would cast him just for thinking about him; Anakin is thankful that they can’t, because if they did he’d have been banished a long,  _ long  _ time ago. 

"No, I think it makes you far more human than I thought you were." 

It's an odd thing to tell someone, but it’s the truth. Anakin is getting to see Obi-Wan as…  _ more  _ human than just the person he loved more than his own life. He’s getting to see the ugly side of it all, the bits that Obi-Wan tries to hide, and that Anakin hates himself for having. 

He prosecutes himself daily for caring about people like he does, for being unable to do anything with his ever burning fury. But… so has Obi-Wan. He’d wrestled with his feelings for Anakin the entire time they’d been back, had struggled to come to terms with what that meant for him as a Jedi. 

It probably shouldn’t be as exciting as it is. Obi-Wan looks back to him now, face stuck between regret and tired surprise. Anakin’s still angry but now all he wants to do is hug Obi-Wan, to kiss him. 

But he doesn’t move. Even before everything, even before their fight and their confessions, Anakin had never been shy about sleeping with him. Had never tried to hold himself back from it, drank in every touch and word Obi-Wan was willing to give like he was a dying man. 

But now, as Anakin stands there it feels wrong. Like something is different and he has to ask permission, has to be told he can reach out and touch Obi-Wan. Still even though Obi-Wan has just admitted to his avoidance being out of embarrassment and not disinterest, Anakin isn’t sure it’s going to be wanted. That  _ he’s  _ going to be wanted.

But,  _ Force,  _ does he want him. His entire body aches with the need to be touched, for Obi-Wan to just reach out and put his hand against his, to pull him into an embrace. Even if it’s fleeting at this point Anakin would take anything. 

He’s so  _ tired  _ of not knowing if Obi-Wan wants anything to do with him, and he feels like every second they’re not touching is another second towards his inevitable insanity. It makes Anakin’s fingers twitch and he begs Obi-Wan with his eyes to bridge the distance and just.  _ Walk to him.  _

Thankfully Obi-Wan has always been smart, and he huffs a breath in the same moment he’s striding forwards. He approaches so fast Anakin thinks he’s going to just kiss him right then and there, really he wishes he would, but Obi-Wan stops just short of touching him and gives him the smallest, most heartfelt smile Anakin has ever seen him make. Warm and gentle, and so full of  _ emotion  _ that it takes Anakin’s breath away. 

“May I touch you?” Obi-Wan’s tone is soft and careful, fragile, his voice oh-so different from the night on the mountain, against the harsh rocks and the cold of the wind. 

This is far more intimate, far more clear as Anakin’s eyes lift to meet Obi-Wan’s. There’s a look to them, something Anakin doesn’t think has ever been there before - or he hadn't noticed before. It’s a kind of…  _ need.  _ It’s like he’s actually seeing Obi-Wan for the first time in years and it leaves him struggling for words. 

Obi-Wan had said he’d loved him despite the fact that Anakin knew good and well that he wasn’t remotely good enough for him. That he was a disappointment to the Jedi name, and a failure of a chosen one who would be lucky to have the love of the Force itself. But, as he’s looking into his eyes, Anakin knows he hadn’t really  _ believed  _ him until now.    
  
“Please,” Anakin pleads breathless, his entire body tipping forwards like gravity is pulling them closer. As soon as the word leaves his mouth Obi-Wan surges up like he’d been barely holding himself back and drags Anakin into a kiss. 

It’s gentle, and warm, but nonetheless searingly passionate as before. His hands cup Anakin’s face carefully, like he’s afraid to touch, like Anakin is something fragile that he can’t stand to break. Anakin want to weep with the feel of it, and the book drops from his hand with a gasp as he reaches up and grips Obi-Wan’s tunic in his fists. 

Obi-Wan crowds him up against the bookshelf until his back hits it with an audible thump, the books behind him shaking and nearly falling off the shelf. Anakin winces but Obi-Wan doesn’t seem concerned about it, doesn’t appear the least bit worried that Anakin might knock his books to the floor. 

Instead he just presses forwards until their chests are touching and sucks Anakin’s bottom lip into his mouth. Anakin makes a noise that gets caught in his throat, sounding like he’s drowning or being strangled, but he doesn’t have time to be embarrassed about it when Obi-Wan is here, and  _ touching him.  _ Anakin is going to burn up. 

He snakes his hands up under Obi-Wan’s tunic, thankful that he hadn’t been wearing his obi when he’d shown up at his door uninvited. Gets his hands wrapped around Obi-Wan’s bare waist, breathing heavy from the warmth of him against his palms, just in time for Obi-Wan to press his tongue into his mouth. 

It drags a moan out from his chest, heavy and urgent, Anakin digging his nails into Obi-Wan’s skin. Their foreheads meet as they kiss, Obi-Wan using it to tilt his head back and up. His hand slides down from his cheek, trailing a line of fire burning as he goes, coming to rest heavy and thick against his neck. Obi-Wan is cupping his throat to hold him steady, his thumb pressing just under his adam’s apple and his fingers wrapped around the back. 

It’s innocuous. 

It makes Anakin start to shiver; Obi-Wan could kill him if he put a little pressure there, a little pressure here. He wouldn’t but the fact that he  _ could  _ and Anakin is  _ letting  _ him do this is… it’s painfully erotic. He whines and tries to press up against Obi-Wan’s hand, urging him to do something Anakin doesn’t even know how to ask for. 

But the noise has barely left him when Obi-Wan slips his other hand down and undoes Anakin's obi with practiced ease, letting it fall to the floor in an uncharacteristic show of disinterest. Even when they'd been frantic on the battlefield Obi-Wan has always taken great care in both their clothes. 

Anakin feels dizzy with the speed that Obi-Wan is going, but keeps himself grounded by the gentleness. This too was something he wasn't entirely used to. Again, any time they had sex after a battle it went one of two ways. Fast and hard, how Anakin usually liked it, or slow and methodical as Obi-Wan took his time. But even then it hadn't been like this. 

Now, as Obi-Wan let's his fingers slide into Anakin's hair (regretfully away from his neck), there's a sense of cautiousness, even as he's pulling Anakin's tunic open haphazardly with his other hand. It’s as if every movement and touch they make has another meaning to it underneath the surface, like every single one is a confession all over again, and that has Anakin pulling back from the kiss in a gasp for breath.

Obi-Wan takes the opportunity to slip the tunic from his shoulders, his mouth finding Anakin's neck without hesitation as he sucks a dark mark into it. Between the two of them Obi-Wan had always been more keen on foreplay, but now it's like if he takes his hands off Anakin for a second he's going to die. 

Anakin's not exactly complaining though. His eyes fall closed, unable to keep them open against the brightness of the lights. Instead his hands slide up to Obi-Wan's chest and he pressed them there. Not hard enough to tell him to leave, but enough to feel the weight of Obi-Wan as he leans against them. To feel him there. 

He should probably try and reciprocate, pull Obi-Wan’s tunic open, but every time he works up the motivation too Obi-Wan does something else that stops him in his tracks. It’s awful. He loves it.

"I thought,” Anakin tries, cuts himself off with a moan as Obi-Wan bites gently against his neck. “I thought it was in poor taste to solve our problems with sex," He’s aiming for joking but he's far too breathless for it to land right, and it ends up sounding more tired than he meant it to. 

It doesn’t seem like a very big issue when Obi-Wan hums against his neck, though, sending another shiver down his spine.

"Yes well, you solved yours this way, I thought I'd give it a go." He softly responds, lacking the punch behind his words like Anakin had. It would have been almost funny in any other situation. 

Anakin feels Obi-Wan’s hand land heavy against his belt, tugging at it and Anakin has to resist the whine that tries to crawl out of his chest at the thought of what that means. Obi-Wan pulls back from his neck until Anakin can feel his breath on his face.

Anakin questions, "How's that working for you?" Letting his head fall down as he opens his eyes to level Obi-Wan with his gaze. 

Obi-Wan, for his part, looks at him in awe like he does when he sees a new planet for the first time. It makes Anakin's face burn. 

"You tell me, " Obi-Wan purrs back and drops to his knees, taking Anakin's trousers and underclothes down along with him as he goes. 

It pulls a startled gasp from Anakin, his now free hands falling to Obi-Wan's shoulders in surprise. The air is cold against his now unclothed thighs and cock, and he locks his knees to keep from shivering. Anakin’s eyes are glued to Obi-Wan’s face, taking him in now that they’re not so close he can count Obi-Wan’s freckles. 

His hair is tousled, falling onto his face like it does after a fight. His cheeks are flushed red and the freckles that dust them now more prominent than ever. Like a galaxy of stars against the black of space, or the whisker pocks on a cat. 

Obi-Wan’s looking up at Anakin with a reverence that almost hurts. It’s raw and real and  _ new,  _ and Anakin doesn't want it aimed at him. 

Because  _ why  _ would Obi-Wan look at him like this, when he’s got hundreds of other people far better than him to aim it towards. When he could just as easily follow Jedi dogma to the letter and never love. Even as he protests it, Anakin knows  _ exactly  _ why Obi-Wan is looking at him like this. 

He just can’t understand it. 

And he can't stop the thought that their positions should be reversed, with Anakin on his knees for Obi-Wan. It feels backwards, Obi-Wan down before him when he should always be higher. It was like a sign of positions, and Anakin knew his wasn’t above Obi-Wan. The thought drags up the memory of the pain from the rocky ground as he'd dropped to do that very thing on the mountain. He has to suck in a sharp breath as his cock twitches. 

Obi-Wan doesn't let him think on it very much longer though, and he doesn’t know if that’s more of a curse or a blessing; he doesn’t let Anakin think about much of anything at all as Obi-Wan moves forwards and takes Anakin into his mouth in one fell swoop that has Anakin barking out a yelp. 

He can feel it as Obi-Wan swallows around him, feel the way his tongue pressed hard against the underside of his cock. One of Obi-Wan's hands grip his thigh firmly, pressing fingertips into the meat of it as his other snakes around and pressed warm and wet against his back end - Anakin doesn't even know when Obi-Wan had had time to slick his fingers up. 

"Mmhm,  _ fuck,"  _ Anakin whines, tossing his head back again as Obi-Wan presses into him. "Ah, Master, Obi-Wan-" He doesn't know what he wants, beyond Obi-Wan, and his mouth, and his  _ hands.  _

But he can't stop the flow of words from his mouth as Obi-Wan pumps the finger in and out of him, sucking hard against his cock. He’s mostly just babbling nonsense at this point but - but then Obi-Wan pulls off him with an audible pop, humming again. Anakin cracks his eyes open to look down at Obi-Wan to see why he's stopped.

"Yes, darling?" Obi-Wan says it in response to his words, to Anakin's mindless pleading. 

There wasn't any real intent behind it but to question, maybe to tease. But the word has sparks flying up his abdomen, his stomach going fire hot from more than the shock of hearing it. A moan startles out of Anakin, loud even to his own ears, his legs trembling and buckling under him. 

It’s - something about the endearment, something about the intimacy it implies, about the way he’s never heard Obi-Wan call him something so sweet before it… it  _ burns.  _ And it makes him feel like he's about to come and all that's happened is a minor blowjob. 

Obi-Wan catches him as his legs give out, rising to his feet as he holds Anakin beneath the thighs to keep him stable. From the way they're standing, with Anakin essentially kneeling and Obi-Wan pressed up against him with both arms hooked under his legs to keep him there, it makes their faces perfectly aligned and Obi-Wan takes full advantage of that. Pushes his lips against Anakin's once more, licking into his mouth obscenely. It's all Anakin can do to just hold on. 

There’s still the burn of betrayal swirling in his chest, still the ache of the thought that Obi-Wan didn’t really mean what he’d said. It’s a kind of swirling sourness that stains the Force around him a bitter green. But now, as Anakin  _ feels  _ Obi-Wan’s love with every gentle press against his lips and every caress against his face, it ebs more and more with each second that passes. With every touch Obi-Wan is apologizing for what he’d done and with every breath he’s confessing his love all over again. 

It begins to change the Force around them to something more pink, and it makes Anakin’s face heat. To anyone else this would spur some overdone declarations of love in response to Obi-Wan’s, but Anakin’s never been good with his words, never been able to explain what he wants to say in a way that makes sense. 

And the last time he’d said it he’d broken down into a sobbing mess and he doesn’t really feel like doing that again. So, instead, he wraps his arms around Obi-Wan’s neck and crushes his mouth against his, their teeth clinking together momentarily, screaming  _ I love you, I love you  _ into the movement.

Obi-Wan instantly sturs on the other side of their bond and presses, gently,  _ wanting,  _ against his mind. It’s hard to explain how it feels in words, a sort of pressure against his thoughts. Not hostile, but needing, cautious and filled with a hunger. So many times in the past Anakin hadn’t let him in. 

Even while they were doing this before, Anakin can count the times he’d dropped his shields on one hand. But again, the feeling that something is  _ different  _ rises up until Anakin lets his shields drop. The second he does their emotions crash into each other like two waves rolling in different directions, violent and unrelenting. 

They swirl together until it’s almost hard to tell from which end each feeling is coming from. They’re feeding off each other, their bond a trembling line of electricity between them like a live, exposed wire. 

Around them the Force swells with it, like a rising tide, and Anakin can feel it licking at his sides, filling him with a rush of  _ energy  _ that startles him. The Force itself seeming to urge them forwards. 

_ How could anything like this be  _ wrong  _ in the eyes of the code?  _

Obi-Wan seems to get the same surge of energy, because with a smile pressed against Anakin’s lips he feels Obi-Wan take a grip of his thighs tighter and that’s the only warning he gets before he’s hoisted up into Obi-Wan’s arms. Anakin gasps as his sense of balance shoots out the window, his grip around Obi-Wan’s neck tightening until his knuckles go white to try and stabilize himself. 

Anakin’s stomach drops to the floor at the sudden change. Obi-Wan just  _ picked him up.  _ Anakin doesn’t think he’s ever done that before. Anakin didn’t know he could  _ do  _ that before. A warm tingle spreads up his spine and into the back of his neck, curling his toes as his cock twitches where it’s pressed up against Obi-Wan’s still clothed stomach.

“Obi-Wan-” Anakin breathes out, wrapping his legs around him for extra support in case he drops him. But Obi-Wan’s been training and fighting for as long as he has, knows how to carry someone, so he doesn’t think he will. Maybe Anakin just does it to be closer to Obi-Wan. “What are you -  _ what  _ are you doing?”

“Taking you to bed.” Says Obi-Wan in reply, and he starts walking to the bedroom door in the same breath. Like he doesn’t realize how embarrassing that sentence is, how Anakin’s face goes a dark red at the words. 

“You don’t have too.” Anakin laughs, pressing his lips to Obi-Wan’s ear in a half-attempted kiss that’s jostled by his footsteps. It feels out of place, Obi-Wan going out of his way to do something like this for him. 

Not that Obi-Wan  _ wouldn’t,  _ just… that Anakin doesn’t  _ deserve  _ Obi-Wan doing things for him. It’s not his place to get doted on when he’s such a failure. Anakin bites his lip, his stomach clenching with painfully hot shame, and he has to look to the floor to shove the thought from his mind. 

Obi-Wan hums thoughtfully, almost like he’s actually considering that maybe he doesn’t actually have to. That maybe Anakin doesn’t want to make him take him to his bed, it’s not like he’d really ever been in there much anyway, even after all they’ve done it still feels like an invasion of privacy. Like something  _ outside  _ them still. Like they’re about to do something that actually  _ means  _ something. 

Obi-Wan keeps walking, though. 

“Yes, but I’m going to.” Obi-Wan’s door opens with a hiss and he brings them inside, kicking off his boots as he goes - all without jostling Anakin from his hold. It’s impressive, actually. “I doubt us doing this was very comfortable on rocks and over the back of ‘speeders.” 

Obi-Wan finally lets go of Anakin only to toss him onto his bed, Anakin letting out a punched out breath of air, bouncing on the mattress from the weight of his fall. Above him Obi-Wan grabs his shirt and pulls it up over his chest, and Anakin has to force down the noise it almost draws from him. Because he’s positive this is the very first time they’ve ever done this that Obi-Wan has taken his shirt off. He clenches his hands against the urge to  _ touch.  _

“Besides,” Obi-Wan adds as he’s crawling onto the bed in between Anakin’s legs, Anakin having to slip back on his arms a little so they don’t bump noses together. 

The smile Obi-Wan gives him makes something in his heart break, Obi-Wan’s gaze dropping half-lidded and almost timid - his face turning a darker shade of red. For a moment Anakin almost asks whats wrong, doesn’t know what could make Obi-Wan look like this. He almost swallows his tongue when Obi-Wan speaks next, though. 

“I would like to take care of you.”

“Oh,” whispers Anakin, voice caught in his throat. His face feels like he's being burned. “By all means then.” 

He’s aiming for humor but even to his own ears it sounds strained against his lips. Obi-Wan thankfully doesn’t comment on it, just lets out a huff of a laugh and leans forwards the last few inches to kiss him once more. 

Anakin’s heart swells with it, dragging his hands up to press against Obi-Wan’s chest. Splays his fingers out across the expanse of skin, breathing heavily through his nose. As much as he would love to Anakin doesn’t get to keep his hands there long, as Obi-Wan’s own hands grip the bottom of his undershirt. 

He pulls it up instantly, until Anakin finally relents and leans back far enough for him to slip it off. It gets tossed somewhere to the left of the room, disappearing into the darkness; Anakin only really registers that the light is off still. He’s thankful for it, now, as he’s met with the stark reality of being bare chested in front of Obi-Wan. 

It’s not like he hasn’t been before - he can list countless times, from the shared quarters on the cramped transport ship to getting injured and needing medical attention.  _ But.  _

With Obi-Wan’s attention on him so firmly, without the faint illusion of civility cutting short any growing tensions, it’s hard for him not to feel exposed. His skin tingles and he lets out a faltering breath as he scratches his shoulder, arm going across his chest, as a thin excuse for trying to hide. 

Anakin is covered in ugly scars, littering his body like grass on a field. He looks like someone’s failed attempt at stitching together a stuffed doll. Something scary. But Obi-Wan doesn’t look like that. He has scars too, nearly as much, if not more so, than Anakin, but it’s  _ different.  _

His wounds tell a story, show how strong Obi-Wan has been over the years and all that he’s managed to live through. It’s like seeing a map of his bravery etched into his skin. Anakin’s is a testament to every failure. The place where his prosthetic arm and flesh meet burns at the reminder. 

“What is it?” Obi-Wan whispers, a hand landing heavy on Anakin’s hip. Jolting, a nervous laugh punches out of Anakin and the hand at his shoulder trails down to press painfully hard just above the leather of his glove. 

Obi-Wan must have felt the feelings seeping off him in the Force - he might have even just figured something was off from the expression on his face. Anakin had never been very good at closing himself off.

“Nothing,” Is his instinctive reply, but after he’s said it he doesn’t know if he  _ means  _ to say it. The both of them have admitted a lot today, a lot these past few  _ weeks,  _ and it feels  _ wrong  _ to lie to Obi-Wan. 

Maybe it would turn out okay if he spoke about this, if he told Obi-Wan why he was suddenly sending all these nervous, shameful feelings through their bond. Maybe he’d even feel  _ better.  _

Maybe he’d grow wings and fly, too. 

Obi-Wan’s brows raise as he gives Anakin a skeptical look, and he makes no sign that he’s going to continue until Anakin answers. And considering the fact that Obi-Wan had wrung it out of him before with little effort makes Anakin’s protest die on his lips and he sighs heavily. Lets his head fall back and his eyes slip closed, his fingernails digging into his skin harder. 

“You’re gonna make me say it, aren’t you.” Anakin groans. He can hear the smile on Obi-Wan’s lips as he speaks.

“Of course.”

“Fine,” Hisses Anakin as he opens his eyes to glare heatedly at the ceiling. Takes a breath, takes another. 

Tries not to think too hard about the eyes he can feel burning into him, or the way Obi-Wan’s hand at his hip feels like the best thing in the world. 

“It’s just… it’s  _ weird.”  _

“What’s weird?” Obi-Wan inquires, and Anakin can tell from the inflection in his voice that he’s genuinely confused, his other hand landing on Anakin’s thigh; Anakin revels in the feeling of it. “We’ve had sex before. Quite a bit, actually, if you recall.” 

Anakin can’t help the snort he makes. Obi-Wan somehow managing to misunderstand him so drastically was amusing - if frustrating, leaving him to explain what he means. 

“It’s not that. Well…” Anakin finally lifts his head back up but he doesn’t look at Obi-Wan, instead locking his gaze on the way the blanket beneath him wrinkles under his weight. 

“Well,” He repeats, “Not entirely. It’s weird doing this here. In your room and not, I don’t know, on the battlefield or something. It’s, don’t get me wrong, it’s nice. Far better than it but I’m just not - I’m not used to it, I guess? And you just… coming right off of you admitting you were  _ embarrassed  _ about what we said. It feels different, not like it usually is and, ugh.” Anakin shoves his hands into his hair, the pads of his hands digging into his eyes until he sees spots. 

“It’s so hard to try and explain this, it just feels  _ weird,  _ okay? Like something has changed and we’re doing things we haven’t normally done, and,  _ Force,  _ I’m not protesting! This is what I wanted from the beginning, for you to just  _ love  _ me! But now you say you do, and it doesn’t feel real, and it’s happening so fast and  _ not fast enough,  _ and I just  _ want  _ you but I feel like I can’t  _ have  _ you. Because I’m not - I mean fuck, look at me!” Anakin finally drops his hands to gesture at himself with vitriol, his eyes landing on Obi-Wan’s face.

“I’m covered in all these - all these  _ scars,  _ and it can’t be at all pleasant to have old, heavily used leather touching your bare skin.” He tugs uselessly at his glove. “But I can’t even do anything about that, it’ll be far  _ worse  _ if I took it off. You’d probably - you’d probably just kick me out at the sight of it, or something, I don’t know. I mean, it’s hideous, my arm is full of holes and all metal and cold and the scar above it looks just  _ awful.  _ And this isn’t even talking about everything else, my personality is the worst thing about me, I’m probably the most useless Jedi on record, and I-” Anakin stops himself on a sharp intake of breath. 

His face burns - he’s said far too much. He should have just stopped at ‘it feels weird’. He quickly looks down at his own hands so he doesn’t have to see the look on Obi-Wan’s face. The disappointment. 

“I just,” Anakin is quiet now, far more subdued than his frantic ranting a moment before. “Don’t see how you can put up with me day to day, let alone say you love me. To do this here, in the temple, risk being cast from the  _ order,  _ even. I’m not  _ worth  _ it.” 

The silence that follows is palpable, a thick heavy thing that hangs in the air between. Their breathing is the only sound that cuts through it and Anakin is sure you could hear a pin drop in the other room. Part of him is, darkly, hoping Obi-Wan is going to come to his senses. 

The mere idea of causing Obi-Wan to  _ lose  _ the  _ one  _ thing in the world he cares about - being a Jedi - just because he couldn’t keep his hands, his feelings, to himself, is almost too much to bear. This way if Obi-Wan realizes he’s made a mistake now then Anakin won’t have to suffer through watching Obi-Wan lose his title later. Worse, he won’t have to see Obi-Wan tell him years from now that he was wrong and never really loved him. 

In the same breath Anakin just wants Obi-Wan to ignore him, or call him an idiot. To reassure and keep them together through some miracle. It feels like wishful thinking though. Anakin  _ isn’t  _ worth it. Isn’t worth the trouble of being around him will cause; losing his place as a Jedi, losing friends, having to put up with Anakin’s inherently disagreeable personality. 

Even if Obi-Wan doesn’t regret saying he loved him, at least now that Anakin’s  _ explained  _ to him all the trouble he’s going to cause Obi-Wan will cut this off. Be the reasonable one between the two of them like he always is.

Fingers press hesitantly against Anakin’s chin, gently nudging him up until Anakin’s head is lifted to once more look at Obi-Wan. Resisting it doesn’t even cross his mind. Obi-Wan smiles once their eyes meet and Anakin has to remind himself to breathe. 

The hand at his hip drags Anakin closer, closer until their noses are touching and Anakin is nearly in Obi-Wan’s lap; his legs are splayed on either side of Obi-Wan’s hip, Obi-Wan’s legs are bent as he’s kneeling on the bed. Anakin has to shift his weight onto his gloved hand to keep from tipping entirely backwards from the shift. 

Obi-Wan tips his head forwards until their foreheads rest against each other. “I’ve known you for eighteen years. I have seen you at your best, and I have seen you at your worst. You frustrate me to no end, I am constantly tripping over droid parts when I come over to your quarters despite me telling you to clean. I don’t know the last time you washed your own dishes, you’re always mouthy and disobedient. You’re reckless, and headstrong, and far too clever for your own good.” 

Anakin winces, closing his eyes. Obi-Wan is gearing up to tell him off, and is being far too nice about it. Why can’t he just rip the bandage off and be done with it already?

“And you’re filled with compassion, and a strong sense of justice.” Obi-Wan laughs, “I’ve never known anyone else so willing to endanger themselves just to save a handful of droids, or clones, or even just native animals. You make me question my own morals, whether or not  _ I  _ should be the one doing that as well. You’re the most skilled Force user I have seen, or read about. You’re thoughtful in a way others aren’t, listening when I say I’m tired, or I need new reading material in passing, and weeks later when I’ve forgotten about it you appear out of nowhere with a new book as a gift.” 

“Obi-Wan-” Anakin tries to protest, to question, he doesn’t know. He doesn’t know where Obi-Wan is trying to go with this, what he’s trying to say. Obi-Wan shuts him up by pressing a hand to his mouth.

“Your hair is golden sunshine,” Obi-Wan’s voice wobbles on unshed tears, his breath shaking. “And your eyes are as clear as the sea and the sky. Your voice is the sound of birds after a long storm, your mere presence lighting my mood in seconds. You are beautiful, and magnificent, and every time I look at you I see a swirling, warmth in you, your Force signature so unique and singular that I can pick you out of a crowd of hundreds without even  _ trying.  _ I am better for having known you, and it is  _ my  _ fault for not letting you know that every day of your life. It is my fault that I didn’t get my head out of my ass and realize how special you are, and how much I  _ truly  _ love you until you told me first.” Obi-Wan’s hand at his mouth slips down to cup his face once more, gently. 

Anakin laughs through his tears, hand gripping Obi-Wan’s bicep for some semblance of grounding, something to hold onto. “You’re waxing poetic about me.” It’s supposed to be a chastisement, meant to scold. It comes out the way he feels - startled, embarrassed,  _ overwhelmingly  _ happy. 

“If it takes waxing poetically about you every day for the rest of our lives for you to see how much I care for you, then that’s what I’m going to do.” Obi-Wan confesses,  _ promises.  _ “So trust me when I tell you, you are more than worth it.” Anakin kisses him.

It’s like a surge of electricity shoots through the both of them as they clash, Anakin desperate as he clings to Obi-Wan like a lifeline; all the while Anakin is sending unfettered yearning through their bond. Obi-Wan urges him down onto the bed until he’s laying atop him, heavy and reassuring weight that Anakin shivers at when he gasps for breath. 

Kisses land on his cheek, his neck, Obi-Wan taking the lull in kissing to give attention to the rest of him. Anakin arches into it, unable to stop the bubble of laughter that leaves his chest. Obi-Wan makes a noise against his neck, questioning.

“Who would have known that the great negotiator Jedi would be such a sap,” Anakin barks out in laughter. It gets him a groan from Obi-Wan, who presses his face hard into Anakin’s neck. 

“I’m never going to live this down.” He says it as a statement and not a question, and Anakin nods.

“Oh, of course,” He pushes his hair up out of his face with his flesh hand absently as Obi-Wan sits up and looks down at him. “Just wait until I tell the clones how well you flirt.” 

Obi-Wan’s face pales. “You wouldn’t.” 

“Wouldn’t I, though?” Anakin grins, wide and free, his gloved hand trailing up Obi-Wan’s chest. Pressing into the flesh, memorizing the feel of muscle just under the surface. It makes his mouth water. “They’d get a good kick out of it.”

“You’re terrible,” Obi-Wan leans down and kisses his lips, chaste. “Just horrid.” Kisses his chin. “An awful man.” Licks down Anakin’s neck. 

“All things you already knew.” His hand slips up into Obi-Wan’s hair as he trails down Anakin’s body, his breath ghosting teasingly against Anakin’s cock. It makes him hiss a breath through his teeth, tightening his hold on Obi-Wan. 

“You wouldn’t,” Obi-Wan muses, finally, pushing against Anakin’s thighs to get his legs to spread further. Anakin does it readily, eagerly. “Because if you  _ did  _ tell any of them, you’d have to tell them what started that particular conversation.”

Face scrunching up, Anakin grunts. “You’re right.” 

The words have barely left his mouth when Obi-Wan, gripping his thighs tightly, pushes his legs upwards and goes  _ down,  _ away from his cock and - 

“Oh Force,  _ really?  _ You’re going to-?” Anakin squeaks, shifting to help Obi-Wan so he doesn’t have to try and keep his legs pushed up. 

Obi-Wan’s breath is hot against his skin, and he can  _ feel  _ him smile. He doesn’t get a verbal answer; just as well, as Obi-Wan answers instead by licking a hot stripe against his hole. It has Anakin moaning, head falling back with a  _ ‘pof’  _ against the bed, his hair splaying out wildly. 

Obi-Wan is licking into him already, far quicker than when he’d done this before. Anakin curses, his legs twitching hard enough that he almost crushes Obi-Wan’s head between them. Thankfully Obi-Wan still has one hand against his thigh and pushes them back open before he manages to.

“Sorry,” Anakin breathes out apology, Obi-Wan maneuvering his legs until Anakin’s feet rest on top of his shoulders. It’s only then that Anakin notices Obi-Wan has slipped off the bed and onto his knees to get a better angle. 

Again he thinks that  _ he  _ should be the one on his knees for Obi-Wan, but doesn’t get long to think about it when Obi-Wan presses a finger into him alongside his tongue. Anakin groans and grips his cock, more out of reflex than intent, but as soon as he touches himself he can’t stop. 

Strokes over himself in quick, frantic movements. He almost expects Obi-Wan to scold him and make him stop but, when Anakin gets the nerve to lift his head to crack an eye open at Obi-Wan he’s rewarded with a heated look. Obi-Wan is watching him jerk himself off. 

He’s  _ enjoying  _ it. 

Anakin whines, high and strained in the back of his throat, and he has to grip his cock hard to stop himself from coming then and there. He shouldn’t have looked at Obi-Wan. 

Obi-Wan, who gently smacks Anakin’s leg to get his attention again. He gestures with a waving hand to his nightstand. Anakin cocks a brow in question but Obi-Wan doesn’t stop to answer, just pressing harder and more insistent against Anakin until his legs shake violently and he lets out a broken moan. 

It takes him a moment to do as he’s told - whatever that  _ is  _ exactly. He shifts back, craning his neck to look up and to the right where Obi-Wan’s nightstand sits. Hand still on his cock, Anakin uses his gloved hand to reach over his chest and drag the drawer open with the Force. 

Closes his eyes and nudges around it’s contents, looking for whatever it is Obi-Wan sent him in there for. It doesn’t take very long for him to find it, his sense landing against what is  _ very  _ distinctly a bottle of lube. Anakin’s mouth drops open on the surprise of the fact that Obi-Wan keeps a tube of  _ lube  _ in his  _ nightstand.  _ _ In the temple.  _

Anakin pulls it to himself, catching it out of the air so he can wave it for Obi-Wan to see. He pulls up, his finger pulling out of Anakin, and Anakin shivers at the loss. Obi-Wan doesn’t seem to notice the humor, the irony of him keeping lube. Just grabs it out of Anakin’s hand and pops the cap, pouring a generous amount onto his hand. 

“You have lube,” Anakin finally relents, bringing it up. Obi-Wan hums and he has to fight the urge to roll his eyes. “You have  _ lube  _ in the  _ Jedi temple.  _ You, who has always preached about how we have to be modest and whatever.”

“To be  _ fair,”  _ Obi-Wan says, finishing up and tossing the lube onto the bed beside Anakin’s hip. “I haven’t always had it.” 

“When did you get it, then?” Anakin is laughing as he says it, already crawling backwards before Obi-Wan even makes a move to stand. 

He can tell he’s going to, can feel the intent behind his end of their bond. Sure enough Obi-Wan crawls back onto the bed, sliding up between Anakin’s legs once more, his cold, wet hand brushing against Anakin’s thigh making him hiss. 

Obi-Wan shrugs, pushing his fingers against Anakin’s entrance. “Three days?”

Anakin gapes at him. “You have  _ not.  _ Are you serious? You went and got some lube the same day the council talked to you about our departure dates?” Obi-Wan pushes his fingers in, cutting Anakin off. He huffs a breath and slips back on his elbows, his cock twitching at the sensation of it - Obi-Wan isn’t even really doing anything yet. 

“You don’t have to remind me, Anakin, I was the one who did it.” Obi-Wan’s face is flushed a dark red as he fingers Anakin, acting like their positions are reversed and Obi-Wan isn’t the one who has control. 

Anakin isn’t sure he likes it so he doesn’t press any further, but he files that information away for later in case he’s in the mood to tease him. Obi-Wan quickly presses in two, three fingers, the lube making it  _ much  _ easier than just spit and lust. 

By the time Obi-Wan pulls his hand away again, Anakin’s thighs are trembling with the effort of keeping still, his face flushed a dark red. He watches as Obi-Wan lifts the lube back up and coats his hand once more, before stroking over himself. The second he makes contact Obi-Wan’s eyes flutter closed, a barely audible hiss escaping through his lips as his hips jerk haltingly into his own hand. 

Anakin bites his lip and shamelessly strokes over himself in time with Obi-Wan, mirroring his movements, unable to look away even when Obi-Wan finally cracks an eye open and looks back down at him. 

When their eyes lock it’s like a string snaps; Obi-Wan surges forwards, gripping Anakin’s hips, as Anakin moves to meet him in a blinding kiss.  Unlike the gentle, soft press of lips before this time is all teeth and gripping and tugging hair, both of them going almost frantic now. Making up for lost time. 

Anakin feels Obi-Wan press forwards, as he lines himself up against him, the slick heat of it making Anakin shiver and pull Obi-Wan down by his neck to hiss in his ear, “Get on with it.” 

Obi-Wan doesn’t respond verbally, but he doesn’t have to. He presses into Anakin in one smooth motion, bracing himself on his forearms over Anakin as he goes. Anakin shifts, goes to brace his legs and kiss Obi-Wan; the sudden shift in position jolys his wounds though, and he flops back against the bed with a wince and a pained hiss. At once Obi-Wan stops his movements and makes a noise that's just a little bit broken.

"Are you alright?" Worried as ever, because Obi-Wan wasn't anything if not deeply, sometimes  _ annoyingly  _ empathetic. Anakin would be amused if he wasn't in pain. He presses his gloved hand to his side with another wince and looks up at Obi-Wan through one eye.

"Nothing I can't handle, just a little, er, sore." Anakin laughs despite himself, and tries to shift to take the weight off his side. 

Obi-Wan pauses for a moment longer, thinking, before he finally moves - but it's not how Anakin expects. He slides his hands up under Anakin's back and  _ lifts,  _ until almost all Anakin's weight is being supported by his shoulders and Obi-Wan. The new position is a little embarrassing, but it quickly eases the pain until, with another shift of his hips, Obi-Wan leans back down over Anakin. 

"Better?" He questions softly.

Anakin, not to be outdone despite his still healing wounds, wraps his legs around Obi-Wan's waist, and pulls him forward. The movement drags him close until he pushes in farther with a gasp; just as Obi-Wan bottoms out Anakin leans up, arching his back even father, and bites his neck, hard. Not hard enough to break the skin, but enough that it’ll leave a mark. Leave  _ his  _ mark. On Obi-Wan. 

“Ow!” Obi-Wan hisses, but he doesn’t sound angry; nor does he look it when he pulls back a little to press a hand to his neck, his face contorted into a mix of surprise and amusement. “You bit me.”

“I’ll do it again if you don’t move,” Anakin jabs, and he rolls his hips as seductively as he can manage for good measure. Obi-Wan makes a noise like he’s been punched and tips forwards, nearly falling over onto Anakin. 

But it works, and as soon as he doesn’t look like he’s going to crash onto the bed in a limp heap, Obi-Wan grips Anakin’s hips in a pleasantly firm hold and snaps his hips forward. Anakin can’t help the noise that it draws from him, or the noises that follow with each subsequent jerk of Obi-Wan’s hips. 

Obi-Wan’s penchant for trying to take things slow has either been pulled out of him, or he’s got the same level of need and impatience as Anakin does now; he sets a relentless pace that Anakin will definitely remember for weeks. He’s thankful that this time Anakin didn’t have to  _ ask  _ Obi-Wan for what he wanted, didn’t have to try and convince him to give him it past Obi-Wan’s usual base level of caring. 

But, even though it’s not his normal, isn’t the slow methodical pace he likes to set when he gets his way, it’s no less caring, and Anakin isn’t stupid enough to think that he isn’t doing this on purpose,  _ for  _ Anakin. Because they’ve been doing this, been together, long enough for Obi-Wan to know what he likes at this point. Or at least, quite a bit of it. 

But that’s a road that goes both ways, so Anakin just grins when, as he plants his feet on the bed and rolls his hips to meet each thrust, Obi-Wan lets out a punched sounding little moan and presses a hand to Anakin’s shoulder to balance himself. 

The movement is mundane and innocuous, but when Anakin feels the pressure so close to where he  _ didn’t know he wanted it,  _ he can’t help but moan. He can’t help, either, the way he grabs Obi-Wan’s wrist and pulls him closer. He doesn’t bring Obi-Wan’s hand to his neck, doesn’t go that far, but the movement seems to have the same effect as if he had - Obi-Wan’s head lifts up from where he’d hung it, his eyes gazing down somehow quizzical and far too knowing past the fringe of his hair. 

A heartbeat. One. Two.

Obi-Wan’s hand twitches and his fingers brush against Anakin’s neck.

“Yes?” Obi-Wan asks, his thumb stroking Anakin’s skin gently. 

“Yes,” Anakin hisses, his eyes blowing wide. 

Obi-Wan lifts his hand and pushes it against Anakin’s neck, and his fingers tighten around it, not enough to hurt but enough to imply, and Anakin can’t -

_ “Fuck-”  _ Gasps Anakin, his hips stuttering as he feels heat swell over his entire body, like Obi-Wan had just lit him on fire instead of grabbing his neck. “Yes,  _ Master,  _ uh - fuck,  _ please.”  _

And, because Obi-Wan has always know what he means, even when Anakin himself doesn’t, Obi-Wan answers. His fingers tighten around Anakin’s throat until his breath leaves him, until he can’t suck in air anymore and if this was any other situation he would be terrified, he  _ is  _ terrified, but that just makes it  _ that much better.  _

His orgasm hits him like a raging 'speeder, Anakin’s entire body snapping taut as he arches into Obi-Wan’s hold, unable to make a noise or to stop himself when he claws down Obi-Wan’s chest and back. 

When his vision returns, and he no longer feels the hand at his neck, Anakin is left gasping for air desperately. Above him he can hear Obi-Wan curse, his hips still stuttering into Anakin frantically. 

Chasing quickly after him but not quite there yet; Anakin breathes in a heavy breath, wills the sluggishness from his limbs and cups Obi-Wan’s face in his hands. Lifts his gaze, bringing them face to face once more. Obi-Wan’s eyes are heady and filled with so much  _ longing  _ that Anakin can’t help the words that come out of his mouth. 

“Master,” Anakin gasps, rocking back against Obi-Wan despite the fact that he can barely feel his jelly-like legs. “Master, come on, do it, I wanna see. Wanna see, Master, I love you so much, please.” 

Obi-Wan’s face breaks and he makes the most  _ beautiful  _ sound, his hips stuttering as he comes; his arms go limp and he slumps, almost all of his weight dropping onto Anakin the second his body still from aftershocks. Anakin is going to be reliving this particular memory for  _ years.  _

They lay there for - Force, Anakin doesn’t know, but it’s long enough that his arms start to go numb. When they finally part Obi-Wan shifts first, pulling out of him, making the both of them wince, before he flops down beside Anakin on the bed. 

“Well,” Anakin finally says after a moment to regain his composure - or, some semblance of it. His voice is rough when he speaks. “I am  _ not  _ telling the clones about  _ this.”  _

Obi-Wan barks out a laugh and rolls over, pressing a kiss to Anakin’s cheek. “Where’s all that lovely bravado gone, my dear?” 

Anakin flushes at the endearment, and shoves at Obi-Wan halfheartedly, looking away. “Yes, that was before I had you choke me out, Master, so you’ll forgive me if it’s suddenly incriminating for me to rat on you without doing the same to myself.” 

Obi-Wan hums, his breath ghosting over Anakin’s ear, and - and he reaches out and runs his fingers very softly over Anakin’s neck, like he’s thinking about something. Anakin’s breath stutters in his chest and he freezes.

“Nothing wrong with that,” He breathes, but with the inflection it feels like he’s talking about something  _ other  _ than the possibility of the clones finding out what they’ve been up to. “You looked heavenly when I did it.” 

Obi-Wan’s hand wraps around Anakin’s throat again, and Anakin can’t stop the moan that it draws from him or the way his dick tries - and fails - to twitch back to hardness. 

“Force, Master. If I’d known you were such a fox I’d have asked for that sooner.” He means it entirely as a jab, but Obi-Wan, of course, takes it literally. 

“Yes, you should have. Even if I didn't like it, I’d do it for you. Anything for you.” Obi-Wan kisses his cheek again, then rolling over and standing before Anakin even has time to be embarrassed about what he’d said. 

He moves into the 'fresher, and is only in there for a minute or two before he returns with a wet rag and cleans Anakin's stomach; and, notably, his  _ own  _ stomach, and a little of his chest, because apparently Anakin managed to cover him. 

Anakin can't help the little nervous laugh that leaves him at that, but Obi-Wan just kisses his way up Anakin's stomach, his chest, until their positions once again mirror before; Obi-Wan hovering over him, breath ghosting his face, and Anakin more than happy to be pinned in place. 

It's halfway through a rather decent kiss that a thought returns to Anakin, seemingly from nowhere. He hums and shifts back a fraction, his hands trailing over Obi-Wan's chest. He almost forgets what he was going to say when Obi-Wan opens his eyes, his face dusted in blush and his hair falling into his eyes  _ just  _ so. 

"Obi-Wan," Anakin breathes, sounding far more breathless than he should. "I just remembered."

Obi-Wan cocks a brow. "I do hope it's nothing  _ bad."  _

"What happened to the plant?" Anakin asks, swatting Obi-Wan on the chest lightly. "The one I gave you." 

Obi-Wan shifts back and looks downright  _ mortified.  _ "I… I still have the pot. The plant just… er, well, I  _ have  _ told you I'm not good in the living Force, Anakin."

"You killed it!" Anakin gasps, flabbergasted and maybe just a bit amused. "You killed the plant!"

"I didn't  _ mean  _ to, Anakin." Obi-Wan huffs and he pulls the same face he makes when he's been caught in a corner because of his own plans or words. Anakin frowns. He doesn't  _ like  _ that face, so he pulls Obi-Wan down into a kiss.

"It's okay I'm not actually mad," Anakin says against his lips. "If I was, I don't think I'd ask you if I could sleep in your quarters tonight." 

Obi-Wan pulls back a fraction and there's a breathe where - where Anakin feels his stomach drop and he bites his lip. It's gone just as quick when he sees the soft expression on Obi-Wan's face.

"It would be cruel of me to send you back in this condition." Obi-Wan jokes, before he says, more soberly, "And this way I can ensure you have a full night's rest, unbothered." 

"Oh-ho-ho," Anakin laughs settling down against the bed now that he has permission. "You think that highly of yourself?" He pulls back and makes a show of looking down at where Obi-Wan is still  _ very  _ naked. "Or that highly of your cock?"

Obi-Wan's face turns beet red. "Anakin!" He sounds affronted. Scandalized. Anakin can't stop his grin. "Don't be so vulgar!"

"We  _ did  _ just have sex, are you really going to get worked up about that  _ now?"  _

"-Anyway," Obi-Wan continues, ignoring Anakin's remark pointedly. "I  _ meant  _ that as I'll be there to help you if you have a nightmare, and if you're lonely, like you mentioned earlier. If it helps you, I'd be glad to let you stay over when you need." 

Anakin swallows and considers asking if it could be a  _ permanent _ thing. But it's… probably not very tactful to ask for something like that so soon. Instead he opts for kissing Obi-Wan's neck.

"And you're  _ sure  _ it has nothing to do with your cock?" Anakin whispers like it's some great secret, which earns him a groan from Obi-Wan that rattles his chest as he flops heavy against Anakin, apparently defeated. 

Anakin just wraps his arms around him and grins. 

The sword that had been hanging over his head for weeks has, somehow, like a miracle, managed to miss striking him completely. 


End file.
